He is the love letter

I used to crave love letters, but living the letter is so much more than just reading one.

I had wanted someone to shout avalanches of love and devotion to all who could hear, but not only was such a desire so ridiculous, so unrealistic, so rare, it was merely speech.

The lover I have now doesn’t declare his everlasting love on a megaphone. He doesn’t sing praises to me about my beauty or passion.

He lives his love every day.

He listens to me whether I’m sad, angry or happy. He sees something he thinks I’d like and he gets it for no reason whatsoever except for the fact that I’d like it. He never tires of becoming engrossed in conversation with me. He lets me play video games on his console. He cooks dinner and sometimes he even does some dishes. He takes my dog for walks, feeds her, plays with her, buys her treats and toys and has even paid a couple of vet bills just for her well being. He hasn’t asked for anything in return and his gestures do not taper off. He had already won me over, but he keeps it up and raises the bar.

If there is conflict, I don’t have to worry the relationship may be in jeopardy. He will talk and resolve things. He acknowledges imperfection in everyone and even loves in spite of it and in some cases, because of it. He laughs and tells me I’m cute when I’m in a fog and get lost in my own neighborhood or misplace my keys or wallet, like I do at least once per day.

I don’t ever feel like I’m not good enough and he doesn’t take it personally when I need to take a break.

I have not received any love letters from him. Not in writing. No poems. No melodramatic passion, but I don’t need him to. I haven’t felt like he should. He is the love letter. Love is understanding, trust, respect and quite a bit more and he is all of that. I feel valued and like he is my best friend (don’t tell my best girl friend. I mean, other than her, he is my best friend. No one else has understood me as much or clicked with me as well).

While I have, on some occasions, been irritated just as he has, it was fleeting and petty and usually over some miscommunication or misunderstanding that we ended up in bemusement and amusement about. In the last 15 months, we have only been pissed off once and he is the first who hasn’t made me cry and as far as I know, I haven’t made him cry either. If I made him cry, it would hurt.

I have PTSD issues. Flashbacks when something we watch triggers me and I end up reeling. He lets me have my space, but offers to hold me if I end up wanting it. I lack the hormone that paralyzes a person while sleeping, so when I have nightmares, I am swinging in real life, even though I’m asleep. Certain times per year, we have to sleep in separate beds more often than not and he doesn’t give me grief about it. He accepts it and still makes me feel like I’m the most important person in his life.

I want to keep him.